


Did you miss me?

by Laramie



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Happy, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:51:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laramie/pseuds/Laramie
Summary: Jimmy's quiet few minutes in the yard had been very quiet indeed since Tho- since Mr - sincehehad gone to America with Lord Grantham.Life at the Abbey was just soboringwhen he was away.





	Did you miss me?

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt from maakeba on tumblr. I'm not sure if this is quite what you were after but it's what happened.
> 
> CW for alcohol.

Jimmy hadn't missed Thomas - Mr Barrow - not at all. Not even a little tiny bit.

Well, okay, maybe a little tiny bit. But then, they were best friends: it would have been stranger if he _hadn't_ missed him.

It wasn't usual for Jimmy, though. He never missed anyone. Usually.

And he _had_ taken up smoking mostly so he had excuse to tal-

To have a quiet few minutes. But his quiet few minutes in the yard had been very quiet indeed since Tho- since Mr - since _he_ had gone to America with Lord Grantham.

Life at the Abbey was just so _boring_ when he was away.

He freely admitted to being jealous of _him_ getting to go while Jimmy was stuck at Downton. He wanted to see another country, too. But Mr Barrow had promised to tell him all about it, _everything_ , and to go out drinking at least _once_ , just for him, so maybe that was enough.

It didn't matter; Jimmy would have to be content with it anyway.

One postcard had arrived, and only one. It had been passed to him like it was nothing of importance and Jimmy had sat at the breakfast table clutching it and hardly able to read. He had quite forgotten about his toast.

 _Jimmy --_ it had said, in Thomas's beautiful, neat script (and part of Jimmy had quietly noted how clever it had been for Thomas to send a postcard rather than a letter, proclaiming to everyone that there was nothing unusual, nothing secretive about him writing to Jimmy -)

_That was the longest bloody journey you could ever imagine. Be glad you're staying at home._

_All is well here, hope the same is true for you too._

_TB_

It was so _short_ and contained almost nothing, but there was a picture of an enormous white building on the front, and the words were clearly shaped with such care, and Jimmy had sat there holding it without eating a bite until suddenly there was movement all around him and breakfast was over.

He hadn't exactly _meant_ to tuck it safely into the front of his waistcoat, but footmen's liveries had no pockets and he didn't have time to run up and put it in his bedroom, so what was he _supposed_ to do with it?

-

The bazaar was at least a change of pace. It meant even more work than usual, but it also meant a day spent outside in glorious sunshine instead of in an airless house.

And he'd been charged with managing the punch stand, so as long as he kept an eye on Mr Carson, it was a relatively simple thing to sneak sips out of the tiny little glasses meant for far more refined creatures than he.

At least until Mr Carson set him on the tea tent instead. He had clearly been caught, but, incredibly, Mr Carson said nothing about it.

Anyway, he was already halfway drunk by that point.

He dragged his feet in relocating, which ended up paying off because before he had even reached the tent, Mr Carson called him back, saying that his Lordship had returned.

_His Lordship…_

If his Lordship was back, that meant Mr Barrow was, too.

It was very difficult to walk sedately next to Mr Molesley. He didn't want to _run_ , or anything, that would be silly, but he would have settled for a brisk jog. He felt a bit funny, like his head was full of the alcohol he had drunk and his brain was swimming around in it, bouncing against the inside of his skull.

He determinedly _did not look_ at Mr Barrow as he and Molesley rounded the car, until Molesley said, "How was it?" and Jimmy had to see Thomas's face as he answered and it must be safe to speak to him now because he and Molesley weren't even friends.

He didn't exactly _mean_ to look Thomas up and down as he looked up, but anyway he hadn't changed much while he had been away.

"Interesting," Mr Barrow answered Molesley with a squint on his face which said he had not entirely liked it. He didn't look at Jimmy. "Very modern. Very interesting."

And then he _did_ look at Jimmy, just a moment's glance and half-smile. There was something different in his voice, like he was caressing that second _interesting_.

 _You got laid_ , Jimmy thought. _You bastard_.

He was not exactly clear on why Mr Barrow having sex made him a bastard, but it was obviously true.

"How's it been here?" Thomas asked, addressing Jimmy.

"Not very interesting and not very modern." Jimmy swelled with pride at the laugh he provoked, at the almost shy-looking smile that Mr Barrow redirected towards the luggage.

 _I earned that_ , Jimmy thought irrationally. _It's mine. Don't waste it on inanimate objects._

He licked his lips and reached to take a case from Thomas's hand, telling himself he'd make Thomas smile at him later.

-

Jimmy blamed the alcohol for failing to win at the ring-the-bell.

He and Molesley got out to the bazaar before Mr Barrow, who had stayed upstairs for a few minutes to unpack his own case. Despite his temptation to knock on Thomas's door, Jimmy had walked quickly past and headed outside again. And been _beaten_ by _Molesley_ of all people.

Mr Barrow had come back to join them, then, smart and smoking.

Jimmy had been too embarrassed to stick around at the site of his failure with Thomas around. Hiding behind the tea tent, he watched and waited until he parted from the boring Baxter and pointless Molesley.

Then he approached Thomas again, not quite in a straight line, a hundred - a _thousand_ \- things running through his mind that he had wanted to say to Thomas while he had been away.

A small smile played on Thomas's lips as he watched Jimmy come nearer, scrambling Jimmy's thoughts further.

"Postcard!" he blurted out.

"Excuse me?"

Jimmy wasn't really sure what he wanted to say about the postcard but it had been forefront in his mind and topmost in his heart at the moment his mouth opened. "Your - Your postcard. I got it."

"Oh." The smile widened minutely. "Good. I wasn't sure the post would manage it."

"I'm glad you're back," Jimmy said abruptly.

And there it was: a proper smile, just for Jimmy, wide and pleased and shy. Jimmy drank it in, this was for _him_.

Thomas stood there smiling that smile and said, "Me too."

 


End file.
